


Mark Our Territory

by genevievefugazi, SketchbookThingz



Series: Sweet Disposition [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 21:17:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievefugazi/pseuds/genevievefugazi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SketchbookThingz/pseuds/SketchbookThingz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want to believe it's just you and me. Sometimes it feels like there's three..." </p><p>Loosely based on Britney Spears' "Perfume'. Sherlock/Molly established relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mark Our Territory

The only time Irene Adler came to visit Sherlock was in his mind palace. And this wasn't the first time that he wished she had done more than visited his mind palace.

As he was leaving St. Bart's, his phone made that familiar text tone again. That sultry moan and Sherlock paused. Was it really who he hoped it was. 

 ** _Dinner?_ ** The text read. He looked at the screen for a brief moment as he processed the request. 

\--

It was 6 pm and Sherlock found himself seated across from Miss Adler. Sharing a pot of tea. "Mister Holmes, my my MY MY my..." Irene said before exhaling "I certainly am a lucky girl..." 

Sherlock raised an eyebrow whilst taking a sip from his cup.

"You've been thinking about me, haven't you?"

Sherlock cleared his throat and put the cup and saucer down "You're quite accurate, Miss Adler". In that flawless off white body con dress, he couldn't quite deduce her or even what brought her back.

"You see, Sherlock, I've been thinking about you, too." She got up and walked around her new flat as his eyes followed her around. "I've felt incomplete. Like you were someone I had to have. I don't certainly need you but I crave you." She ended up behind him. A finger running through one of his well coiffed curls.

"I'll have to stop by and grab some chips after I'm done here."

"And why is that?" Irene hands ran through his head.

"Because dinner was not what I came here for." 

Sherlock was sweat soaked and naked in Irene's bed as she turned the key and  released him from the cuffs that were hanging on her headboard. After doing so she then crawled into bed with him.Her soft body clinged on to him. Irene was not a cuddlier but Sherlock was an exception.

"I'm not a cuddle-snog-on-the-cheek type of man miss Adler." he assured her. Irene wasn't buying it. There was a different side to him. A side no one else was privy to except for one person. John, perhaps?

"You like to hold hands, display affection, all from the comfort of your own home." Irene held him tighter "You like it just as much as I like fulfilling fantasies of many high profile clients." Sherlock looked at the clock. 8:15 pm. Its been a night of small talk, tea, and shagging. Now there was important tasks to be done.

"I must be on my way. Cases to solve." Sherlock got up from her bed and began to dress and bolted from her flat. They both knew it wouldn't be the last of their rendezvous.

There in fact was a case that Sherlock had to solve once he got home. He marched into 221B to find Molly on her tippy toes looking through cabinets in the kitchen. It smelled like food in the air that he had to prop open a window to release the smoke coming from the stove.

"Sherlock?" Molly turned around "Darling, I can't quite find the broth I just bought at the market yesterday."

The case of the missing beef broth. 

Sherlock helped Molly look around till he found it somehow at his desk. "Hope you're hungry. I'm going to cook an amazing dinner." Molly leaped into her boyfriend's arms, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as she turned around and tended to the stove yet again.

\--

On the times that they were apart, Irene felt a longing. Sherlock was unlike any of the men she had been with in the past. It was like a piece of candy she could only have once in awhile and whenever she felt its presence close by she became hungry with desire.

Irene could never understand what kind of effect Molly Hooper had on him. The girl was as plain as buttered toast but somehow she mattered just as much as John Watson did to him. She was the girl he always came home to and he would eventually marry if he had ever had his heart set on it.

She was leaving a client's home when she saw them. Sherlock and that bright red scarf of his and Molly and that gray sweater and jeans. Irene was always so well dressed and so she turned her nose up at that outfit. The couple were out for a stroll as she was getting into her car. Her intention was to just go back to her flat but Irene stared intently at them.

The way they were holding hands. Sherlock Holmes, the alleged "greatest detective in the world" basically turning into a romantic mush with this girl, holding her hand and laughing with her. It was kind of...sexy.

Irene commanded her driver to follow them around. She couldn't quite get a good sense of where they were off to but it was certainly a dinner date.

The car came to a stop in front of the Landmark Hotel. Irene peeked through the window again and saw the lovebirds walk into the lobby and assumed they were headed into the hotel. Irene inhaled deeply and clutched her phone tight. "Take me home..." she demanded.

\--

Sherlock was lost in his mind thinking about Irene, it had been a week since their last rendezvous. And like an addict, he was itching for his next fix. "It was the brother wasn't it, Sherlock?" 

"Hmm, what?" he looked up at John. 

"The one embezzling our clients money." 

"Oh, that? Of course, a child could see that John." 

John let it roll off his shoulders, he was used to this by now. When Sherlock's phone buzzed, he answered it with swift precision on the first buzz. 

"Are we done here?" Sherlock asked as he already put his jacket and scarf on, not waiting for an answer. 

"Of course." John replied, as Sherlock made his way to the door he spoke one last time. "This isn't fair." 

"Of course it isn't John. But only one of us can be geniuses, imagine the dreariness we would bore from if we both were." 

"No," he shook his head, "not that Sherlock." he said with a bit of seriousness to him. "I know she's back in London, and I just have to tell you that, Molly doesn't deserve this."  Sherlock's hand hovered on the doorknob, back towards Watson, was their affair this obvious.  "I understand the reason you see her. I do. But she doesn't deserve this. Please." 

Sherlock did not move or acknowledge his friend, instead he tightened the red scarf that Molly had given to him for his birthday, and went out into the cold London rain. 

\---

At 3 am, Sherlock shamelessly walked into 221B. He didn't dare try to tiptoe his way upstairs, either. It was dark inside the living room and as got inside his bedroom, Molly was fast asleep. As per the norm, he carelessly stripped down and got into bed with her, not caring that she was fast asleep. Or that he might wake her. Which he did.

"Sherlock?" Molly moaned as she stirred awoke to see her boyfriend with his back turned toward her. And even from the dim street lights streaking through the windows can see she the bruises and marks on his back.

"What happened to you, darling?" She asked with concern as she gently touched his bare back.

"I won't upset you with any lies, love" Sherlock replied closing his eyes "I'd rather not say anything..." Molly raised the sheets a bit and discovered the marks went lower than just his back. She wasn't stupid and he knew that as well. Rather than pick a fight with him at this hour, she let it go and sobbed a bit as Sherlock pretended to sleep and ignore her cries.

Molly Hooper was not stupid, oh no. She was just as foolish as any girl in love with a man who had special needs.

\----

The next day Molly awoke to an empty bed, and a splitting headache. It was her day off so she continued to go through the motions of what she witnessed last night. As she cleaned around the house she convinced herself, it was just a nightmare.

That's all. But the pit in her stomach told her it wasn't. 

After making an inventory of what she needed for dinner that night she bundled herself up and headed out into the cold London rain to shop.  Some hours later, she had felt better. Being out in the fresh air and occasionally bumping into someone that she knew while shopping along in Borough Market.  After buying most of the items she needed, she began her search for nice bottle of wine. As she turned a corner, she saw her and dared not move. She didn't know who this paled skin women was. But there was something about the air in which she cared herself in, and those bright red lips, that made her stop in her tracks. 

Their eyes locked, and the corner of Irene's blood red lips twisted slightly up into a smirk. Around her neck was the red scarf that she had given Sherlock for his birthday, his initials monogrammed on the end of one of the tassels.  She tightened the scarf around her neck as she began to walk away, leaving Molly in market, with the pit in her stomach, slowly becoming a tumor that wouldn't be leaving her alone anytime soon. 

\------

His phone vibrated, and automatically he knew who it was. 

"I have to go." he simply said as he stood up from the couch and headed to the front door. He didn't need to make a lie but he did anyways, "John and I have to work a case."

"Okay." she simply said as she followed him to the front door, and waited until he put his coat on to wrap a red scarf around his neck. He noticed the color and texture and realized it was identical to the one she had given him for his birthday. The one that he had left at Irene's the night before. 

"I didn't bother cooking dinner because I knew you probably ate out. But when I was out shopping, I found another one identical to the I gave you before."  She wrapped it around his neck and tucked in, he didn't move a muscle. He could hear her voice crack. 

She looked up at him, and he saw the tears that threatened to make their way out. She leaned into kiss him on the cheek, but at the last minute changed her mind. 

"Good night Sherlock." she simply said as she opened the door for him.

\--

At Irene's flat that night, a fully clothed Sherlock sat on the bed across from Irene clad in thigh highs, knickers, and her green chiffon dressing robe. He closed her eyes as she undid the red scarf from his neck and she smelt it. The scent smelled of some sort of simple sweet smelling pomegranate fragrance.  Irene paused and just had to smirk "Bloody hell, I can smell your Molly on you. That cheap perfume from Boots isn't that hard to identify when everyone else is wearing it." she stepped away from Sherlock and turned away to face the mirror on her vanity.

Sherlock sat still clutching the scarf in his hand "Quite certainly you know your place in my life, Miss Adler. You may wear the most dashing clothes in this world, wear expensive jewels, and smell of the most finest scents but Molly Hooper and what she does or wears is none of your concerns. My pleasure is, now," he threw the scarf to the side, "Let's get down to business." Underneath her pursed lips, Irene was pretty sure she was grinding her teeth out of spite. She grabbed the riding crop and gripped it hard.

"Alright, pretty boy..." Irene mused as she turned around and disrobed "If its business you want, you shall receive..."

\--

Slowly he made his way back home, to find it silent. 

"Molly?" he said aloud. 

He walked into the kitchen expecting her to be helpless in some sort of situation in which it would make him feel needed. But found it empty. 

On the refrigerator a note hung in Molly's handwriting.   _Having dinner with Mary, John and Greg. See you tomorrow._


End file.
